“Great!” Cathy squealed. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. “After all, how easy the descent is, even for the greatest of us. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. ‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter. “But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. ’ Gerald could not resist. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil.
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